Hypochondria, insomnia, restlessness, and yearning are the lame muses of these brief pages. I would have liked to call them Extravaganzas . . . because many of them wander about in a strange outside that has no inside, like drifting splinters. . . . Alien to any orbit, I have the impression they... show more

Hypochondria, insomnia, restlessness, and yearning are the lame muses of these brief pages. I would have liked to call them Extravaganzas . . . because many of them wander about in a strange outside that has no inside, like drifting splinters. . . . Alien to any orbit, I have the impression they navigate in familiar spaces whose geometry nevertheless remains a mystery; let

Bookstores:

Tabucchi, where have you been all my life?! I feel like I want to read all your books in a day, to cover my walls with posters of you and to write a cheesy poem declaring my undying love for you. I am a girl of twelve again, only this time my heart is too old for feelings this strong, so my wallet w...

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